


walk a mile

by Sylvalum



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angsty Introspection, Bodyswap, F/F, Gen, Persona 5: The Royal Spoilers, Status Effects
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:05:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27440140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sylvalum/pseuds/Sylvalum
Summary: Akira, in Ryuji’s body, tries to pitch his voice to carry like he does in his own body, and says matter-of-factly, “It seems we’ve all swapped bodies.”
Relationships: Akechi Goro & Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro & Yoshizawa Sumire | Yoshizawa Kasumi, Sakura Futaba/Yoshizawa Sumire | Yoshizawa Kasumi
Comments: 17
Kudos: 123





	1. Chapter 1

They’re making steady progress in Maruki’s Palace, and the Shadows that had been giving them trouble last time they were here aren’t half as difficult after having gone training in Mementos. So when a Shadow they haven’t encountered before – a huge mirror on two legs – attacks them, Akira isn’t cocky per se, but he’s still expecting to win the fight.

Turns out the mirror reflects everything.

(maybe he should’ve seen that one coming)

So, Akira tries to hit the mirror with an ailment. Despair doesn’t stick, neither does Sleep, and Brainwash hits the mirror-

-and then _everything_ whites out in an explosion which throws them all backwards, Akira falling and hitting his head on the floor. He crumples and squeezes his eyes shut against the pain. After the initial boom of the explosion he can’t hear anything, and when he tries to open his eyes all he sees is a whirlwind of lights and colours. He decides to just wait the pain out when he can’t even feel the hilt of his knife in hand anymore.

He presses his face against the floor until he can’t see the burning light through his eyelids anymore, and breathes.

After a minute, he tries raising his head. Then he tries opening his eyes.

The Shadow is gone. His teammates are all scattered around the huge white room, lying in crumpled heaps – even the back-up members are here, lying in a pile next to the doorway. All Akira can hear is his own breathing.

His leg is aching. He quickly takes stock of his own body, and quickly comes to the realisation that – this is not _his_ body. He’s wearing kneepads and a red scarf and when he reaches up to his face- no, the mask is still his own, but his hair is shorter than just a minute ago, and his gloves are bright yellow.

Oh, Akira is _not_ looking forwards to dealing with this.

The body closest to him, Mona, is groaning and quickly sits up. He rubs his face with a paw and says, voice pitched all wrong, “What the hell happened, man?” Then he freezes in horror, slaps both paws to his face and says shrilly, “Why do I sound like Mona? Why do I _look_ like Mona?!” he spots Akira and exclaims, “Why do you _look like me?”_

Akira, in Ryuji’s body, tries to pitch his voice to carry like he does in his own body, and says matter-of-factly, “It seems we’ve swapped bodies.”

* * *

Sumire is glad their masks went with their souls when they swapped; she doesn’t think she’d be comfortable wearing Crow’s huge helmet. Then she almost immediately feels bad about thinking that, considering she did basically steal Crow’s body away from him – and _then_ she sees Akechi in Ann’s body walking forwards to join the team, looking obviously uncomfortable like that, and Sumire feels even guiltier.

Joker, now in Ryuji’s body, has his hands on his hips due to Skull’s lack of pockets and is standing in the middle of the room, back entirely straight to make up for Skull’s shorter height. Not that Skull is short or anything! Just, it’s obvious that Akira’s the taller one. Um. Anyway.

He’s waiting for everyone to come and join his impromptu meeting. Yusuke’s body is the last to make its way over, due to being piloted by Mona, who seems to perhaps have forgotten how to properly manoeuvre a human body since he last had one. Poor Mona.

“We did good work today,” Akira says. It’s odd to hear Skull’s voice speaking so authoritatively. “But I think it’s best to cut today’s infiltration off here.”

“Yes,” agrees Makoto, who swapped bodies with Haru. Her metal mask doesn’t look so out-of-place with Noir’s outfit. “We need to deal with this ailment. Oracle-“ she glances between different team members, and then Sumire’s own voice says,

“Here! I’m in Violet!”

Sumire doesn’t know _why_ but she feels herself blushing.

Futaba turns around and waves, Oracle’s goggles on top of Sumire’s own face. “This whole status effect is _super_ weird. Is this how Confuse feels?”

“This is _way_ worse!” exclaims Ryuji from below, angrily waving Mona’s arms. “Hurry up and tell us how to fix it already!”

“Sheesh! I’m working on it!” Futaba summons Al Azif and gets to work, muttering something about how stupidly bendy gymnasts are. Sumire pretends she doesn’t blush harder at that, and turns towards her senpai.

He’s looking at Panther’s body, where Akechi seems to have – changed his mask? Is _that_ a thing now? His bulky helmet is gone, and instead there’s a very pointy red mask on Ann’s face, and the expression is something stony and scornful Ann would never make. He says, “What, Joker?”

Akira’s voice says, “It’s so creepy to see my body just doing things and having no control over it.” Ann, in Akira’s body, tries to chuckle nervously but instead Joker’s dark chuckle he does after killing a Shadow comes out, and Ann looks startled.

“Yeah,” agrees Akira, and glances at his own body.

Akechi’s eyes, no less piercing now that they’re blue instead of red, move from pinning Akira in place to staring straight into Sumire’s soul. She panics and turns away to cough awkwardly into Crow’s fist – and wow, his gauntlets really do have sharp claws seen from up close, don’t they? She looks back at Akechi and tries not to flinch at the weird breathy voice that comes out when she says, “This does certainly feel awkward, yes. Um. Hopefully Oracle will be able to fix this soon!”

She tries to smile and to think very hard about something _else_ than Futaba, now occupying her own body.

“Wow,” says Ann. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Akechi’s face do that before.”

“Me neither,” says Akira.

Akechi grinds Panther’s teeth, then crosses his arms. “May we all be turned back to normal swiftly,” he says, in the coldest tone of Panther’s voice Sumire has ever heard.

“All right!” announces Futaba right then, and banishes Al Azif. “I have bad news and I have good news, so which do you want-“

“Bad news first,” says Akechi.

Sumire’s body shifts awkwardly in place, and Futaba says, “Okay then. There’s really no better way to say this, so… I don’t know how to fix this!”

Everyone erupts into angry exclamations, despaired wails, yelling-

Sumire doesn’t hear them. It feels like she’s been shut in a block of ice.

She’d spent so long believing she was Kasumi, and now she knows beyond a shadow of a doubt _who she is_ – but this body isn’t hers. No one’s going to look at this body and recognise her as Sumire. It’s all wrong, so wrong she doesn’t even believe she could do a single gymnastics routine in it. It’s a third-year student’s body, a famous Detective Prince’s body, _Akechi Goro’s_ body.

It’s not hers, and it’ll never feel like hers, and-

“Guys, guys!” yells Futaba, anxiously waving her hands. “There’s still the good news!”

The rest of the Phantom Thieves quiet down, somewhat. Sumire is just fighting the urge to throw up, or- or go into some kinda fit, tearing things apart-

“This ailment will last for a week at most! We can’t cure it right now, but we’ll go back to normal soon enough. I promise.”

Futaba, Sumire’s body, looks straight back at her. And maybe it’s the weirdness of being in different bodies, or maybe it’s how Futaba said the words, but for a second it feels like Sumire’s a kid again and Kasumi’s trying to reassure her.

Foreign sadness crushes her chest like a bruise.

“Thank you, Oracle,” says Akira. “Let’s move to a safe room and continue this discussion there.”


	2. Chapter 2

“This shit is straight-up unbearable!” yowls Ryuji, once they’re back in the real world. He’s turned into a cat. Morgana, in Yusuke’s body, starts laughing. Ryuji hisses and tries to bite him in the ankle. Akira rubs his eyes with Ryuji’s hands, hiding his smile.

“Please,” says Futaba’s voice serenely, with Yusuke’s deadpan calm. “Ryuji, I would prefer it if you didn’t attack my body.”

They’re in Odaiba, where snow’s just beginning to fall from the darkening sky. No one else is around to hear their bizarre discussion, but soon, inevitably, they’re going to have to head their separate ways. Ann and Akechi, who basically live alone, will simply head home to their real homes. Sumire will have to go with Akechi. Mona, as Yusuke, will bunk in Leblanc instead of attempting to navigate the Kosei dorms on his own. Yusuke as Futaba will go to the Sakura house with Ryuji-

And Futaba as Sumire, Akira as Ryuji, and Haru as Makoto – will simply have to play the part of whoever’s body they got stuck in, so not to worry any family members.

Makoto as Haru will go with her body to the Niijima flat for a sleepover, the two girls agreed, so that Makoto can help Haru in case Sae gets suspicious. Worst case scenario for them would be to have to tell Sae they’ve been going to the metaverse again, but at least Sae would believe them.

If Futaba and Akira get found out, things would be… more complicated.

“Well!” says Haru, and takes Makoto’s hand. “We’ll be heading to Makoto’s flat, then. Good luck, everyone!”

That statement sounds significantly more passive-aggressive in Makoto’s voice, and Akira hides another smile.

“Good luck!” agrees Akira’s voice, and Ann waves goodbye to the two girls as they leave. Then she turns to Akira, and takes off his glasses. “Here,” she says and hands them over. “I don’t want to risk breaking them.”

“Thanks,” says Akira, and wishes Ryuji had brought a bag with him. He stuffs them carefully in Ryuji’s jacket pocket and vows not to forget about them.

Next, Ann turns to Akechi and points at him. “Do _not_ do anything weird with my body. I’ll know, and I’ll destroy you. Got it?”

“Yes, Takamaki-san,” says Akechi, dry as a desert. “I’ll have Yoshizawa-san with me the entire time, happy?”

Akechi’s body laughs awkwardly, and it’s just so obvious to Akira that it’s really Sumire in there. But no outsider would ever think it isn’t Akechi.

Akira’s relieved that everyone seems to be handling this situation so well, after everything. It’ll only last for a week, at least – which he bets is the main reason anyone’s feeling calm about this. Their Personas are still with them, too – he can feel Arsène, Ishtar, Metatron and the others within his soul – which is really helping Akira, at least. He hasn’t seen his own mother in nearly a year, and now he’s about to go play house with Ryuji’s mom.

Ryuji’s knee twinges in the cold, too. His face feels bare and vulnerable without any glasses or bangs.

And he really, _really_ wants to eat a beef bowl.

Though that could be Akira’s own craving, admittedly.

Ann, Akechi and Sumire collect their bags and prepare to leave. “If you need anything, just ask on the group chat,” Akira tells them. “Especially you Sumire, and Akechi too.”

Sumire says, “Will do!” with a smile Akira’s never seen Akechi wear, and Akechi grumbles something. Though he _does_ wait patiently for Sumire to follow him, while Sumire says goodbye to Futaba, and then the both of them leave after Ann.

Next, Mona scoops up Ryuji while Yusuke in Futaba’s body muses about how neither of them brought any bags with them. They swap phones and other personal items until everyone’s satisfied, Akira tells Mona to help himself to his clothes if he needs to, Futaba tells Yusuke to absolutely not touch or rearrange anything in her room, and to not freak out Sojiro, and to not mess with her computers-

“I won’t,” Yusuke says solemnly. “Will you be alright on your own, Futaba?”

“Sure!” says Futaba quickly. “I just have to get along with Sumire’s parents! While pretending to be Sumire! It’s going to be just fine, haha!”

Yusuke opens his mouth, and Futaba quickly says, “Hush, Inari. You’ll miss the last train if you don’t hurry up!”

They hurry up. Akira, left with only his own bag and Futaba in his kouhai’s body, tries to reach up to fiddle with Ryuji’s non-existent bangs. Welp. There’s not really anything left to do than to grit their teeth and face the music.

This is Maruki’s reality, so if he allowed this bullshit bodyswap to happen – it can’t lead to complete misery, surely.

Though Akira’s still going to kick his ass when this is over.

“Did Sumire give you her address?” asks Akira.

Futaba jerks and says, “Yep! I mean, nope, but I’ve been to her place before. It’s fine.”

“Okay,” says Akira. “If anything happens…”

“I’ll text you! Or someone,” says Futaba. She visibly hesitates, then leaps forward to hug Akira. It feels strange, but not – terrible. Akira rubs her back until Futaba lets go, and they say their goodbyes, and Akira starts to prepare himself for heading to Ryuji’s flat and having dinner with his mother. He thinks he’ll go to the Velvet Room and pick up Chi You, and-

Maybe he’ll just ask Lavenza about this bodyswap thing while he’s at it.

* * *

Akechi is taller than her, and if she thinks too hard about the way she’s moving she starts to feel unbalanced and almost trips over her feet. So Sumire tries not to think about the body she’s inhabiting. She tries to simply let muscle memory guide her, following Akechi to wherever his flat’s located.

She thinks she’d feel far more nervous if this had been even just a week ago, or if Akechi didn’t look like Ann right now. But she’s not as anxious as she knows she could be, so – she’ll be content with that. Even if she still _is_ anxious.

Futaba’s in _her_ body right now, heading to _her_ home to have dinner with _her_ parents. But Sumire trusts that Futaba will be able to handle it! If anyone has to occupy Sumire’s body, sleep in her bed and look at her things, she’d want it to be Futaba. Sumire… likes Futaba.

Sumire really likes Futaba.

She’s a Phantom Thief, so she never met Kasumi and can’t compare Sumire to her – and she doesn’t go to Shujin, so she never got to know Sumire while Sumire thought she was Kasumi. But now they share a common goal, and they’re the only ones of the same age on a team of Sumire’s senpais, and Futaba is funny and smart and tries so hard! At everything she does! Sumire really admires her, but more than that…

“We’re here,” announces Ann’s voice gruffly, and Sumire starts and looks up.

They’re in a neighbourhood of nondescript white flat complexes, and Akechi’s heading towards the closest one. Sumire hurries to catch up, and tries not to look as Akechi puts in the door code – though maybe she _should’ve_ looked, what if she gets locked out? – and then Akechi yanks opens the door and motions irritably for her to step inside. Sumire hurries to do so.

Akechi must feel pretty annoyed, to have his body here but out of his control. Sumire thinks about that in guilty silence, then realises that the best thing she can do for him is to get to his flat quickly and to not ask about any of his things. No matter what his flat looks like.

They ascend the stairs in stony silence up to the sixth floor, where Akechi unlocks the door of his flat to reveal – a completely normal flat, of course. It’s a bit bare, and obviously smaller than Sumire’s family’s, and all the furniture is beige or grey, but… it’s nice! She takes off Akechi’s shoes and Akechi’s coat and gloves, and says, “Your flat is very tidy, Akechi-san!”

“Thank you,” says Akechi very stiffly, having taken off Ann’s coat and shoes. He crosses his arms. “Do you want anything to eat?”

Normally, she’d be starving. Now she finds herself saying, “Maybe? Um, I could eat.”

Akechi has only ready-made meals and snack bars in his kitchen. Sumire eats two snack bars, and – that’s it. She doesn’t want any more. Akechi mechanically eats through an oddly coloured frozen chicken and rice dinner, then looks very dissatisfied.

This strange situation will only last for a week, said Futaba. And Sumire trusts Futaba.

Sumire _really_ doesn’t feel good about being in Akechi’s body, being in any body not her own, but everyone else must think this is difficult, too. So Sumire can deal with it. Sumire can be strong, and calm, and remember that no matter _what_ happens she’ll never forget that she’s Yoshizawa Sumire again.

Sumire looks around Akechi’s flat. The kitchen is barely more than a nook, and they ate at the living room table. There’s a folding screen and a huge bookshelf cutting the living room in half, and Sumire suspects the other half is Akechi’s bedroom. And that’d make the only door apart from the flat door the door to the bathroom.

“Do you want the futon or the sofa,” says Akechi blandly.

“I’ll take the sofa!” says Sumire quickly.

Sleeping, right. But they’ve got hours until then, and Sumire has homework.

* * *

Akechi supposes that as hellish as this is, it could be far worse. Takamaki’s parents are never in the country and he won’t have to interact with them whatsoever, and he’s got the person currently occupying his body in the flat with him. Takamaki’s body is tall, reasonably fit, and he can ignore any sugar cravings like they don’t exist.

He’s still himself. His mind is intact, though his body may not be his own.

Did he want to ever bring anyone to his flat, or hang out with Yoshizawa? Of course not. But if he has to suffer a last big shitshow before his death, at least this ordeal isn’t actively painful. This is fine. This is-

He grits his teeth and puts his head in his hands.

He doesn’t want to deal with anyone seeing him this much, lingering in his fucking flat, seeing his every twitch. And he _especially_ doesn’t want anyone to see him while he’s trapped in a foreign body, where he doesn’t even have any of his normal masks or defences readily available. He doesn’t want to leave his flat tomorrow, go to school – another thing the merry Phantom Thieves forgot to address earlier today – go to Shujin, in a body so obviously not him.

He’ll be viewed as female, as a foreigner, as fucking Takamaki Ann. He’ll be viewed as someone he is _not_.

The thought makes him viciously angry and almost nauseous by turns. How strange.

He’ll have to bring up the matter of high school in the group chat.

“Akechi-san?” says his own voice, sounding stupidly timid. Like a child.

Akechi glances up, and Yoshizawa’s unpacked her schoolwork and is just getting started on some math problems. “Yes?” says Akechi.

It’s bizarre to see his body and his face being controlled by someone else. Shido’s cognition was one thing; this is another.

“Um, I was wondering if you could explain this problem to me?” she asks, and points to something in her book. Akechi gets up so that he can look over her shoulder at the book, and yes, of course he could solve that problem. Akechi breathes in, out, and decides,

“Fine. Here’s how to do it.”

* * *

Compared to the families of everyone Akira’s befriended in Tokyo, his parents are completely fine. Sure, he doesn’t miss them and they haven’t called him even once in all the months he’s been in Tokyo, and he suspects they grew bored of raising another kid when Akira was approximately three years old, but they didn’t really treat him badly. He just hasn’t heard from them in a while; honestly, if someone else took Akira’s body home to visit he doubts his parents would notice the difference.

The same cannot be said for Ryuji’s mom.

Akira’s a good actor, so he acts cheerful. He’s respectful to Sakamoto-san, but not _too_ respectful, not cold – he tries to act familial, talk as much as Ryuji does. He knows Ryuji’s helpful, so he offers to wash the dishes and take out the trash and then vacuum the house.

“Thank you, dear,” says Sakamoto-san, and doesn’t quite raise an eyebrow. “Did you have a nice day at school, today? Is there anything bothering you?”

“Nah,” says Akira quickly, with Ryuji’s mouth. “Day went fine. I hanged out with some friends after school.”

“Ann-chan and Akira-kun?” says Ryuji’s mom, with a knowing expression. She smiles. “It’s so nice to know you have so many friends, Ryuji.”

“Yeah,” says Akira, numbly. “I think I’m gonna be in my room for a bit now.”

He walks into Ryuji’s room, and closes the door. Then he takes off the mask. Ryuji’s room has too little things in it to be considered a mess, but Akira still feels like he should clean, do something, make himself useful.

(A part of him says that it’s the least he can do, to thank Ryuji for everything.

(Another part argues that Ryuji wouldn’t ever think like that, and Akira ought to know his friends like him.

(Akira ignores them both.)

When was the last time his own mother smiled at him? Or even his father or older brother? He can’t remember. It never bothered him like this before. It was fine. But now he’s borrowing Ryuji’s body, Ryuji’s life, and Ryuji’s mother smiled kindly at him and asked him about his day and _now_ he can feel it: the cold gaping abyss growing between himself and his own blood family.

In Maruki’s perfect world, do Akira’s parents even remember that they ever had a second son?

Or would they wish him erased? Wiped _clean_ of all he’s done? No Personas. No criminal record. No Phantom Thieves. No potential to ever become what he is. Not a single bad thought to ever cross sweet little Akira’s mind.

He’d be as good as dead.

_We won’t let that pass, now will we?_

Arsène’s right. So for lack of anything better to do, Akira starts cleaning Ryuji’s room.

He picks up everything from the floor, vacuums, and even sneaks into the kitchen to find supplies for washing his window. Once he’s done with that, putting away the bottles and rags, he realises that he’s made himself dirty in the process. And that he’ll now have to shower. And that no matter how they look at it, all of the Phantom Thieves will have to shower in someone else’s body this week.

Well, Akira thinks darkly. Never say the Phantom Thieves don’t know how to deal with a challenge.

* * *

The sunlight through Ryuji’s window paints his room golden. Akira wakes before any alarm, and he lies on Ryuji’s futon and watches the blinds change colour.

He took his own bag with him here, and made sure to pack Ryuji’s bag for him last night. They’ll have to meet up when they arrive at school to make sure everyone gets the right bag- though since Ryuji’s currently a cat, he’ll get to skip school.

Akira mulls that over some more, then gets up to retrieve his phone.

JOKER: is everyone who’ll be attending school ready?

Replies start trickling in soon enough.

ORACLE: shit

ORACLE: shit shit shit

QUEEN: All’s well on my and Noir’s end.

QUEEN: I might be able to request Futaba’s help with student council work if socialising gets too much?

QUEEN: *I meant Haru. Excuse me, this is a very strange predicament to get used to.

FOX: I and Mona have decided to tell the faculty I’ve come down with an illness for the week.

ORACLE: damn maybe i can convince violet’s parents i’m sick

CROW: I’ll be there.

PANTHER: yeah me too!!

PANTHER: should i bring the mona bag w/ ryuji?

FOX: Ryuji has requested not to attend school, since it’s not like he’s got “any effing fingers” to write with.

JOKER: alright. @ORACLE text any of us if you need a break

JOKER: you all up for meeting at leblanc after school?

If this condition is going to last for a week, they might have to decide what to do about Maruki’s Palace. They’ve been closing in on the Treasure, sure, but a whole week is still a lot of time to not do anything. So they’ll need to talk strategy, and honestly, Akira just wants to see how everyone’s been holding up so far. Not that there’s anything he can do to fix this situation, but he can at least be there for them.

Confirmations start popping up in the chat. Akira gets up and starts to get ready for school.


	3. Chapter 3

Sumire wakes on Akechi’s sofa and is already sitting up before she realises she’s not at home, and she’s not even in her own body, and there’s no need for her to do any of her usual morning stretches.

Then she gets up and stretches _anyway_ , feeling nervous and almost a little rebellious. It’s not like Akechi’s body will take any damage from some stretches, she reasons. And it makes Sumire feel more awake and ready to face the day, so even if Akechi would disapprove – well, whatever. He can’t complain if Sumire cooks breakfast for him.

She awkwardly changes into the clothes Akechi pointed her to last night, pads over to the kitchen, and remembers that Akechi doesn’t own any real food.

For a moment she just stands there with clenched fists, wishing she were at home, but then she forces herself to breathe out. And in. And then she just sighs and hunts down some appropriate ready-made meals. She finds curry. Akira eats curry for breakfast every day, so it can’t be that bad. She reads the instructions on the packet carefully before putting it in the microwave, then looks for cutlery.

Akechi has a lot of empty kitchen cupboards.

Most of the ones in use contain packets of dry food, or books. There’s one single cupboard for all of his plates, pots, pans, glasses, et cetera. It makes Sumire feel like all hope is lost just by looking at it.

You don’t strictly speaking _need_ a selection of waffle irons, or mixers, or woks – but nothing else than plates and a single frying pan and cooking pot? Does Akechi _never_ cook?

Of course not, realises Sumire glumly.

She wonders if she’s the first ‘guest’ Akechi’s ever permitted in his flat.

As she thinks it, a voice says, “What are you doing.”

Sumire jumps and whirls around. Akechi, as silent as a tiger, has arrived in the kitchen and is watching her with a flat look, arms crossed. He’s removed Ann’s pigtails and blond hair cascades messily down his back.

“I’m making breakfast!” Sumire squeaks, which is a sound Akechi’s mouth was clearly never meant to make, so then she puts a hand on her hip, clears her throat and says, “For both of us. You should really get some fresh food once in a while, Akechi-san!”

Akechi frowns and says coldly, “You really don’t have to.”

Sumire is undeterred. She puts the plastic curry boxes and two spoons on the table, then gestures for Akechi to take a seat. He rolls his eyes but sits down across from her, and as Sumire starts eating he just looks at his curry for a moment. It’s ready-made curry, and it tastes quite bad when compared to Akira’s fresh curry, but Sumire still feels kind of hurt that Akechi doesn’t want to eat it-

“Thank you.”

Sumire stares at Akechi. Akechi ignores her, and finally starts eating.

Sumire smiles.

When they’re done, Akechi puts on Ann’s winter clothes and grabs his bag, then pins Sumire in place with his eyes and says, “I haven’t been to school since November. If you go out you might be recognised. So please, stay in my flat.” He bares his teeth in something you would only call a smile by mistake, and Sumire nods quickly. “Good.”

Then he leaves, door clicking shut after him.

This is only for a week, Sumire reminds herself. Only a week. Only a single week.

When Sumire’s stressed, she either cooks or trains. So, she pushes Akechi’s coffee table and sofa aside and gets right back to doing stretches.

She can either have a crisis, or she can be productive, she reasons to herself. And after having spent half a year believing herself to be dead, to be someone else, she doesn’t feel very inclined to waste a single fucking second. So she stretches, and then she vacuums Akechi’s flat, and then she decides that if she has to stay cooped up in Akechi’s flat all day she might as well try to get to know him by reading some of his books.

(it’s not like there’s anything _better_ to do, is there)

As she starts inspecting the shelves, she realises that a lot of the books are schoolbooks. And some of the others are just document folders. Case files. There’s a lot of philosophy books too, and other dry texts. And lastly, there’s a meagre selection of sci-fi novels. Sumire’s gaze drifts back to the case files, and – well, Akechi didn’t tell her not to look at anything. He probably doesn’t care that much.

Sumire carefully slides a folder off the shelf and cracks it open. Documents upon documents about the Phantom Thieves, all from last summer and autumn. The text is very dry so Sumire simply flips through the pages, until there’s a file on Kurusu Akira and she stops. It’s from his trial back in his hometown. She’s heard about Akira’s record, of course, and how he was framed for assault by a politician. But it’s so different to see the records on paper-

And the next document is about the arrest of the leader of the Phantom Thieves.

From that night Sumire went into the metaverse to help him.

There are more documents listing his crimes, the people he’d targeted, the calling cards, suspected confidants of his and so on – Sumire reads on as if compelled to do it. In police custody he’d been interrogated several times, and been drugged for nearly all of it – but it’d only lasted two days.

And that’s because the next page in the folder’s an obituary.

Sumire remembers watching the news when they announced his ‘suicide’.

A suicide, says the document too, in nice cold soulless printed sentences. Stole a gun off a guard, shot him, then shot himself. Akira would never do anything like that. It was all a trick, of course. But if he’d really been in police custody, been drugged and in pain and… Sumire can’t imagine what it’d been like. The Phantom Thieves all seem so smug about managing to fake his death, but what if something had gone wrong?

How did they dare to try it?

Kasumi was bold; Sumire wasn’t. Sumire could see herself agreeing to fake her own death, and likely failing to not die for real, out of some desire to be useful – but she can’t imagine letting a friend walk into a situation like that. So, Sumire doesn’t really like thinking about Akira’s ‘death’, no matter how fake it was. She’s never even found a good opportunity to ask any of them what _really_ happened back then, what their plan really was, in the casino and then after, with that politician. She hasn’t asked about Akira’s faked death or Akechi’s skill in the metaverse, she hasn’t asked about how they thought to target Shido, she hasn’t asked about what happened on Christmas eve- because she’d refused to join the Phantom Thieves herself! It was her own choice to not be with them for any of that.

Akechi had called her a disbeliever, and yes, she supposes she was. But what Maruki did to her… someone else might say that he meant well. Sumire doesn’t want to be as spineless as to say that. He erased her. She’ll never forgive herself for Kasumi’s death, but allowing herself to be erased to just _replace_ Kasumi… that’s no way to live. She understands that now.

So yes, she wants to take Maruki’s heart.

And maybe after they’ve done that, Sumire can finally allow herself to really become a part of the Phantom Thieves. Maybe she’ll dare to ask Akira about all she’d missed, ask if he’s really as okay with it as he makes himself out to be. Or maybe Sumire will ask Futaba about it. Maybe she’ll ask Futaba _out_ , even.

(or she’ll just ask Akechi about these files. Asking Akira is _embarrassing_ ; in comparison asking Akechi would only be terrifying)

* * *

Being in Sumire’s body isn’t the hard part, even though Futaba would definitely prefer to be in her own body – but facing Shujin Academy as herself would maybe be even worse, so… maybe not! Point is, Shujin is a huge school with hundreds of students (hundreds!) and everything is loud, and bright, and when people stare at her Futaba feels like she can’t breathe.

And everyone’s dressed in the same Shujin uniforms, and Sumire as a civilian wears glasses and her hair down, so Futaba thought that maybe that’d be good enough? That maybe she could hide behind that and no one would look at her and all she’d have to do would be to go to lessons, carefully following the group chat’s instructions?

But then the fucking history teacher had asked her a _question_. And when she’d opened her mouth all that came out was a _squeak_ , and that’s basically game over right there!

Futaba hates this. Futaba hates this school, and she hates that she screwed up, and she hates that Sumire will get chewed out all because Futaba couldn’t keep calm for just one-

She squeezes her eyes shut and hugs her knees to her chest, reminding herself to breathe.

The history teacher had escorted her to the nurse’s office, after Futaba faked being violently nauseous, as opposed to having a panic attack. So now she’s alone in the nurse’s office with a bucket. It’s an eye-searingly yellow bucket. If she wasn’t feeling sick before, she definitely is _now_ after looking into that bucket for so long.

Her phone vibrates, and Futaba almost jerks off the armchair she’s in.

QUEEN: And it’s lunch break. How is everyone?

PANTHER: why do all the teachers keep singling me out for questions!!!

JOKER: its because of my magnetic charm ofc

JOKER: anyone want to meet on the roof for lunch?

NOIR: Yes please! We can all show Futaba our hideout!

Futaba’s hands shake as she types but she doesn’t give up.

ORACLE: cn someone come get me

ORACLE: im @ nurses office

NOIR: Oh no! Futaba-chan?

QUEEN: Did you hurt yourself?

JOKER: im omw

Good old Akira. Futaba drops her phone, kicks the empty bucket away and settles in to wait. Akira’s coming, things will be fine, with her key item she can defeat any boss. Even if she’s playing in Sumire’s story for the moment. She leans back in the armchair, takes a first proper look at her surroundings, and realises something.

…wasn’t this Maruki’s office? And, also, the place where Lavenza showed up to meet with all of them?

Futaba raises her head, eyes zeroing in on the computer on the desk at the other end of the room. It’s really, abysmally unlikely that Maruki would’ve left any files of any worth on a computer that’s literally school property. While Maruki seems to have been a bit absent-minded as a counsellor, he’s still the same guy who managed to inherit the power of god and is currently ruling this reality. He can’t be a complete idiot.

But still. Futaba gets up, silent and light on Sumire’s feet, and walks over to the computer. With the help of her phone she manages to get inside, and before long she’s browsing through the computer’s meagre files. There’s a disgusting number of pictures and fliers about proper exercise and a good diet, blah blah, and the school nurse or someone is compiling a photo album on here, but also – Maruki’s old schedule.

Counsellor appointments, faculty meetings, school events, reminders to buy groceries, dentist’s appointments… the most interesting events are “meet w/ shibusawa” and “visit rumi”.

Maruki seems almost frighteningly… _normal_.

“I doubt you will find anything,” laments a child’s voice suddenly, and Futaba whirls around.

Lavenza is leaning against the desk, looking at her sleepily. “Maruki has very little control of this room. While it might mean that he finds this room good enough as is for his version of reality, it might also mean he has no attachment to this place.”

Futaba takes a minute to catch her breath. “When did you get here? And _how_?”

“The Trickster sent me,” says Lavenza serenely. She’s resting her head against the top of the desk, just barely tall enough to manage it. “He ought to arrive soon.”

That’s good. Great. Futaba doesn’t love the thought of going outside into the crowded corridors again, but it’s not like there’s any other way to leave, is there? She collects all her things and pulls on her shoes again, then settles down at the computer to wait. Lavenza takes a seat in one of the armchairs and closes her eyes. Futaba pokes around on the computer some more, but Maruki’s search history – while funny – doesn’t contain any useful information, and honestly… she doesn’t really know what she’s supposed to be looking for.

While Akira’s met with Maruki many times, Futaba hasn’t. Only the once, when she spoke to him about her mother at Leblanc.

And that was enough for Maruki to create a whole cognition of her mother.

The door to the nurse’s office creaks open. “Futaba?” asks Ryuji’s voice, and Akira pokes his head in to look in a movement which looks super weird performed by Ryuji’s body. This whole status effect is so uncanny valley.

“Over here!” says Futaba, and when Akira looks at her she flashes a peace sign.

“Sorry I’m late,” he says, stepping into the room. He nods to Lavenza, then turns to Futaba and asks, “Ready to see the roof?”

* * *

The rooftop of Shujin Academy is mostly what Akechi expected it to be. There are empty flower boxes and a couple of old desks and chairs, and a high fence around the edge of the roof. When someone attempts to commit suicide by jumping off the roof, you put up a fence. Of course. What was Akechi ever expecting of this place? Though the school did hire a counsellor, he supposes. Too bad the man in question turned out to be Maruki.

It doesn’t matter in the least how ‘ _nice’_ Akira thought Maruki was. It doesn’t matter how normal, boring and _unremarkable_ a therapist they thought he was – appearances are no guarantee of anything. Maruki himself might’ve thought he was just doing everything for their own good – oh, it makes Akechi sick – but really, he was manipulating them. You don’t just dangle a mysteriously resurrected person in front of someone without intending it as a bait of some sort.

Isshiki and Okumura were bait. Akechi himself is bait.

It’s frankly beyond Akechi why the guy he almost killed twice would want him around that much, enough for Maruki to make it happen. (Oh, it’s not, of course Akechi can guess at _why_. Kurusu is very hard to read yes but every human has desires, and since Akechi already knows what Kurusu wants – him, alive, because who else would make this wish – then it’s easy to reverse-engineer whatever Kurusu might feel about him)

Speaking of; Kurusu himself has yet to arrive to the roof. Apart from him and Sakura, they’re all here already.

Takamaki insisted on sitting down next to Akechi, just like she’s been sitting behind him in every class, and he supposes he can get the urge to keep your own body under surveillance. It still makes him irritated, granted, but snapping would be a waste of time.

Niijima and Okumura have already started eating their lunches, sitting close together with their heads bowed almost conspiratorially, talking in low voices. If anyone’s _not_ suffering from this stupid fucking situation, it must be them.

The door to the roof bangs open, and Oracle steps outside, trailed by Kurusu. Sakamoto is not a good look on Joker. He just looks out of place, trying to slink in Sakamoto’s body. Skull’s too fucking bright and loud for any of Kurusu’s usual charade. He’s been stripped of his best masks, and while it of course looks terrible – Akechi’s eyes still track Kurusu’s every move until he sits down, tuning out the conversation around him.

It’s interesting.

Kurusu catches him looking at him, obviously, at which point Akechi deliberately waits a second then simply turns his head away.

Meanwhile, Sakura’s saying, “And Sumire’s glasses are totally fake too, just like yours!” She points at Kurusu.

Kurusu just shrugs.

Niijima turns to Sakura and says very diplomatically, “If you still feel overwhelmed Futaba, we’ll see if we can get permission for you to go home early.”

Okumura nods. “It shouldn’t be that difficult, considering this is Maruki’s reality.”

Akechi clenches his hands into fists, and Takamaki says, “Ugh. That’s true.”

“Oh, yeah,” says Sakura, and lights up. “I hacked into the computer in the nurse’s room to see if Maruki had anything interesting on it, but he’s literally so _boring_. All I found out is that he’s super forgetful and seems to be into H.P. Lovecraft’s stories. Also, he goes to the dentist’s a lot.”

That’s useless fucking information. Akechi rubs at his head, and gets annoyed when one of the pigtails falls in his face. He fucking _hates_ these pigtails, and this body, and this _school_ , and he can’t believe he agreed to let Ann put his hair up like this just for the sake of this godforsaken bullshit act-

He thought he was done with acting. He thought once he died he’d finally be done with acting, forever.

He thought he’d be _done_.

Niijima calls for everyone else to eat lunch. Akechi skips lunch nine days out of ten and brought nothing with him, but neither did he expect Kurusu to start pulling out wrapped breads from his bag and say, “Hey, Akechi,” and wave a bread at him.

“Are these from the school store,” says Akechi, but grudgingly accepts a bread as Kurusu walks over to hand him one.

“Yep. They’ve gotten in a lot more options.”

“Obviously.” He scoffs.

Akechi takes a bite. Of fucking course it’s delicious. What else would it be, in Maruki’s reality? Despite that it feels like he’s chewing sand.

Kurusu sits down next to him, unwrapping his own melon pan. Akechi looks at him. Kurusu calmly turns his head to watch Akechi in turn, and takes an unbothered bite of his bread. It’s January and should be cold as all shit, horrible up on the rooftop, and Akechi doesn’t even like melon pan – but of course none of this is as awful as it should be. Not in this reality.

Akechi should be _dead_ and the only reason he’s here is because of Kurusu. And because of that fucking Maruki. It’s Maruki’s fault he’s experiencing this horrible out-of-body experience. It’s Maruki’s fault that he’s here at all, able to watch the pale blue sky over Tokyo and eat school store bread with people who’ve seen the real him and still at least decided to tolerate him. It’s all Maruki’s fault, that he and Kurusu are here together, and Kurusu doesn’t even fucking know that _he_ made it happen with his idiotic wish.

* * *

School drags on, but eventually 6 pm comes around and all of them apart from Akechi cram onto the train to Yongen-Jaya.

Morgana, Yusuke and Ryuji have all spent the day at Leblanc or the Sakura residence, and apart from Fox’s brief messages in the group chat this morning, Akira’s heard nothing from them. Which could honestly mean anything, or even just that Yusuke’s phone died. Though there’s always that saying that ‘no news is good news’, so…

When they reach Leblanc all three of them are sitting at a table and waiting, but Akira’s barely taken a step towards them when from behind the counter Sojiro says, unbothered, “Hey kid. Whoever one’s Akira.” And-

That’s not exactly what anyone would say, ever, unless they’d been told about this bodyswap ordeal? Isn’t it? _Right?_

“Uh,” says Ann, in Akira’s body, frozen in the aisle. “Um. I mean-“

“You’re not Akira,” says Sojiro easily, which is really touching, actually, that he can tell the difference. But unfortunately- “I know what’s happened to you kids. Morgana has been very… talkative.”

They all look at their booth. “You’ve been talking at me for months!” exclaims Mona, and bangs Yusuke’s hand into the table when he gestures. “Of course I took the chance when I got it! There were so many things I needed to tell Boss, okay-“

“Indeed,” says Yusuke, nodding. “To witness Morgana finally able to speak his heart about Sakura-san was a moment I will not forget.”

“Yeah, yeah,” grumbles Ryuji. He’s lying in the far corner of the booth seat.

“Well,” says Makoto. And doesn’t add anything.

“That’s so wonderful!” says Haru, meanwhile, standing right next to Makoto and beaming. “And isn’t it easier for all of us, if Sakura-san knows?”

“Haru might be right,” says Futaba, and looks at Sojiro. She awkwardly waves a hand and says, “Hi dad?”

“That gymnast girl, huh,” mumbles Sojiro, and rubs at his head. “How do you people always get yourself into such unbelievable situations?”

“Luck,” says Akira.

“Talent!” exclaims Morgana. “It’s a part of our trade.”

“It’s shit-ass effing luck,” says Ryuji, but Sojiro can’t hear him like this, can he.

They all cluster around Yusuke and Mona’s chosen booth, Haru and Makoto sitting down next to one another and Futaba plopping down next to Yusuke. Akira remains standing, leaning against the back of a seat with his hands in his pockets. Sojiro just keeps looking at them, and they’re still waiting for Akechi and Sumire to show up, so – they all decide to ‘introduce’ themselves to Sojiro, for lack of a better word.

“So you’re the loud kid, and he’s the cat,” says Sojiro to Akira, after that. Arms crossed and standing in front of the counter, but he looks more amused than anything.

Akira shrugs. They didn’t exactly _choose_ which person to swap with, anyway, though Akira’s started thinking guiltily that maybe he shouldn’t have hit that enemy with Brainwash back in Maruki’s Palace in the first place. Like, obviously he shouldn’t have, but none of their attacks were hitting it and he’d had to try _something_.

What’s done is done. They’ll just have to live with this a couple days more.

“Tell me you haven’t touched my Featherman figurines,” says Futaba to Yusuke.

“I have not,” says Yusuke. “I spent most of the day here, regardless.”

“Tell me you haven’t touched my souvenirs,” says Akira then, to which Morgana says,

“I made him put everything back in their proper places, don’t worry.” Right. Morgana’s decorated Akira’s room as much as Akira himself has, has helped to pick out places for everything, so it should be fine. Mona looks very smug about it too. “It’s so great to have hands in the real world too. You guys don’t know how good you have it.”

Morgana’s wish was to be human, as they all remember. They’re just starting to settle into an uncomfortable silence thinking about this, when Ryuji says, “Yeah, seriously! I had no idea how inconvenient it must be for Mona to live like this until now. Having no hands _sucks_.”

“Huh,” says Ann. “Maybe Ryuji’s learning something from this experience?”

They start bickering almost instantly, and Akira hides his grin by turning away. The more things change…

The bell above the door to Leblanc chimes. Akechi and Sumire step inside, the last two of the Phantom Thieves to arrive. Everyone is here and Akira smiles.

“Alright,” he says, and his friends turn towards him. “We’ve still got half a Palace to get through before the deadline.” And unless they can figure out fighting while inhabiting each other’s bodies like this, they’ll be very pressed for time next week. But everyone here is invested in getting through Maruki’s Palace in time, and together they’ve never failed.

Even Akechi’s here, after all, despite everything that happened. When Akira catches his eye he smiles, and Akechi seems to look through him for a moment, before looking down.

* * *

It’s been over 24 hours by now. Sumire is taller than her and crazy flexible, which is kind of weird and unfair. But Futaba could deal with all _that_ just fine, though, no problem – it’s keeping up small talk with her mom and dad that’s the real issue. The huge issue. The mid-level boss. Her only comfort and coincidental coping mechanism is that she is in Sumire’s body – so she’s basically in disguise! She doesn’t have to be Sakura Futaba and make a mess of herself; she’ll just pretend to be Sumire and hope her parents buy it!

Just like the teachers at Shujin did! Yeah!

This day has been so godawfully unbearably long. It’s been an interesting day too, sure, whatever, but anxiety takes a lot of your stamina meter and Futaba’s never had the best stats anyway. Sumire’s body has a lot better stats, obviously, but Futaba’s still the player here, so. The day hasn’t been great, no. It was nice to go back to Leblanc though, but then having to _leave_ again and go to Sumire’s flat? Bad. Very bad.

The thing (the third thing, items #1 & 2 being this bodyswap ordeal and her own lagging brain) is that when Sumire invited Futaba here just a few days ago, Sumire’s parents… didn’t like Futaba. They kept staring at her and asking her weird questions, and then asking _Sumire_ weird questions about her, and-

If it’s _this_ bad in Maruki’s happy-go-lucky dreamworld, they’d probably hate Futaba in reality.

And Futaba really, really likes their daughter.

And is also currently inhabiting her body trying to masquerade as her.

So, anyway, that evening when she has to sit down with them at the dinner table she pretends to be _really_ focused on eating her dinner. Except then she realises how _ravenous_ she is, and becomes focused for real, eating three plates of stew and some bread before she’s done. And at that point Sumire’s parents are already done, and Sumire’s mother suggests that she should get started on her homework, and yeah, totally.

Bullet dodged!

So Futaba holes up in Sumire’s room and pretends to do her homework.

It’s a relief to be alone, but it’s the kind of relief that just feels like exhaustion – like if you’ve been in pain for some time and then it suddenly lets up. Nothing celebratory. At least Sumire’s parents didn’t seem to be suspicious of her. Is that good? Should Futaba be concerned about how Sumire’s parents interact with her?

She should probably just try to relax.

Sumire likes her parents. She’s made this clear to Futaba in many ways, that her parents are good people. The fact that they didn’t like Futaba probably means nothing – they’re such a normal family. And… Sumire’s sister died just a year ago, didn’t she? They’re probably still mourning her.

Speaking of. Futaba’s never actually seen a picture of Kasumi.

She gets up from Sumire’s neatly made bed where she’d been sitting. There have to be pictures of Kasumi around the house – pictures of her with Sumire. Family photos. Those kinds of things normal families always put on their walls. And Futaba is unstoppable when she’s curious about something. She sneaks out of Sumire’s room and starts to look around in the flat.

Photos of Sumire are pinned to the walls, some of them blurry, some of them less so. Most of them show her in a leotard or at some other kind of event. There’s also a single framed family photo, but only Sumire and her parents are in the picture. There are no photos of Kasumi in the hall, or the kitchen or living room, and Futaba wouldn’t dare go into Sumire’s parents’ bedroom.

Futaba doesn’t like this.

“Sumire?” asks Sumire’s mother then, appearing suddenly from the bathroom. Futaba makes sure not to react weirdly with every muscle in this body.

“Hi!” she squeaks.

“Did you need help with your homework?” asks Yoshizawa-san.

“Nope!” Futaba clasps her hands together and forces herself to meet Yoshizawa-san’s eyes. “I was just thinking about Kasumi, haha!”

“Kasumi?” asks Sumire’s mother. “Is that a new friend of yours?”

“No, it’s…”

Everything clicks horrifyingly into place: the total absence of pictures of Kasumi, Maruki’s earlier failure to convince Sumire that she’s Kasumi and how Sumire’s parents now behave. Sumire’s parents have no memory of Kasumi. That must be it. _Is_ that it? This would be a really fucked up thing to do, even for Maruki, so Futaba forces herself to say, “Kasumi? My big sister?”

Sumire’s mother looks at her with uncomprehending eyes.

Fuck, it _is_ happening. Maruki’s deleted all their memories of their daughter, down to the photographs. Wanting to erase pain Futaba can understand, but if anyone tried to take her memories of her mom away from her, she’d want to _destroy_ them. She didn’t cling to her memories of her mom so hard they turned distorted for nothing! Mourning sucks, but to not even get to remember any of the good times would be worse.

And that’s what Maruki’s done to Sumire’s family.

Normal, boring, and a creepy fucking asshole, that’s what Maruki is. Futaba liked Necronomicon and Prometheus, likes Al Azif, but sometimes even she just wants to get down on the ground and kick someone’s ass.

“Sorry,” says Futaba to Sumire’s poor mother, and turns around and runs back to Sumire’s room. She locks herself in then falls onto the bed, pulling up her phone to get to work.


	4. Chapter 4

Meeting up with everyone at Café Leblanc tonight brought Sumire some warmth in this cold January, but now she’s back in Akechi Goro’s flat with the man himself and the feeling’s rapidly fading. Akechi serves the both of them more ready-made meals without a word. Sumire says thanks for the food. They eat in silence and Sumire thinks about the contents of Akechi’s bookshelf.

She’d like to know what happened between the moment Akira was arrested and when he and Akechi met up with her in Odaiba the first time – but mostly she wants to know how Akira managed to fake his death. She doesn’t _want_ to think about her senpai dying, or just barely not dying, but something about that obituary made it stick in her head. It looked nothing like her sister’s obituary. It was just a couple of papers she found in Akechi’s bookshelf. He must’ve kept them because he’s a detective, but nowadays he acts nothing like he used to on TV, and wasn’t he with the Phantom Thieves before Sumire? Or was he?

Sumire could ask Akira when they’re done with Maruki. Or she could ask someone else.

Akira might not want to talk about faking his death, though. It could be a sensitive topic for all of the Phantom Thieves. But Sumire doesn’t doubt that at least Akechi would tell her to shut up if she tried to start a discussion he doesn’t want to have.

And Akechi’s right here.

“Akechi-san,” she begins. “You were a Phantom Thief before, weren’t you?”

“No.” He doesn’t even look at her. “Kurusu might say otherwise, but really, everyone knows I was never one of them.”

“But you worked with them.”

“Yes.” Akechi sighs and pushes his bowl away. Then he looks at her, eyes sharp. “What are you getting at?”

Sumire decisively sets down her chopsticks, and meets Akechi’s eye. “I feel as if I’ve missed out on a lot of stuff that happened to the Phantom Thieves,” she says. Now here’s to hoping that Akechi doesn’t just reply with the obvious – your fault – or dismiss her for some stupid reason. “Like what happened in November and December. And mostly, what happened to Kurusu-senpai.”

“So you thought the reasonable thing to do would be to ask _me_ ,” says Akechi flatly.

The polite thing to do would be to back off.

But him staring her down won’t work when she knows he’s impatient and doesn’t care for her, and isn’t going to be polite to her no matter what she does. Sumire is capable of a lot of bitter thoughts, isn’t she. But she’s _seen_ how Akechi is in the metaverse, and Futaba dislikes Akechi, and all his charm was just a mask, and honestly- Sumire might be more stressed than she thought. She misses her family. So she says, dismissively, “Well, if you don’t know what happened either…”

Akechi takes the bait, but Sumire’s in no way prepared for his answer: “This is a very round-about way of asking if I killed your precious senpai.”

_What?_

He reads her face and then says, “So you really had no idea.” What did he mean, _killed_? “In November, I infiltrated the Phantom Thieves specifically to betray and kill their leader. But they managed to trick me using a cognitive double, and when I finally realised and caught up to them in Shido’s Palace, it was too late.” He looks away and smiles. “There was no point in doing any of it to begin with.”

His smile is bitter, she realises. Regretful? Or is that anger?

And there had been a plot to kill her senpai. Finally Sumire gets why some of the Thieves kept giving Akechi such weird looks. That part makes sense. The rest of it doesn’t _at all_. There had been a whole plot around Akira’s fake suicide? Akechi had killed a cognitive double – he said – and the police had announced that as Akira’s suicide. But to get that cognitive double there, the Phantom Thieves must’ve known about it all beforehand-

If Akechi genuinely was planning to kill Akira. _Kill_.

Akira and Akechi had joked around a bit with each other when the three of them had gone on their first foray into Maruki’s Palace – or at least Akira had, and Akechi had tolerated it. They’d arrived together. Sumire knows there’s some kind of club the two of them frequent together. So, they’re friends, aren’t they?

Or are they?

Sumire could ask so many things, ask for so many details, but what she chooses to say, voice low, is: “Why did you go through with it?”

He must’ve had a damn good reason to even think to do anything like that – and there’s a lot Sumire’s missed, obviously – but still, how could he bring himself to do it?

“Because I was told to do it. It was a part of my old job,” he says. Sumire keeps looking at him. “Oh, you meant _why_ ,” he says. “The big philosophical _why_ of why I would shoot my only friend. And what makes you think I’d answer that question? It was all a mistake either way.”

Sumire asks, “So you regret it?”

Akechi’s mouth thins. “What’s done is done. Kurusu’s still alive and well, so what does it matter to you?”

Sumire wanted to know about what she’d missed, about what happened to Akira. Sumire wanted context for all the inside jokes and weird glances and Akechi’s behaviour. Why wouldn’t she want that? After what he found out in Maruki’s Palace and what Sumire herself has told him, it feels like Akira knows everything about her – while she didn’t even really know why he’d faked his death until now. She didn’t know anything. She still doesn’t know a lot.

Akechi tried to kill her senpai and failed, and now he regrets it.

(he must regret trying to have him killed right? He can’t regret _failing_. Akira likes Akechi, and Akechi- he must want Akira to live, right?)

(there’s no way he’d try it again)

This is a lot more than Sumire expected to find out, but the truth’s always better than ignorance. She knows that now.

Akechi rises from the table and collects his bowl and utensils. Sumire follows suit. Akechi briskly washes the bowls in the sink, and Sumire gets rid of the empty containers. In Akechi’s body, Sumire stands taller than Akechi in Ann’s. She studies Akechi’s hands. They are unmarred apart from a few nicks, and his nails are very neat. Sumire can’t read anything else from them. This is what she’d expect Detective Prince Akechi’s hands to look like, which, she suspects, is the whole point.

Sometimes Sumire trips up and does or says something which immediately makes her think, _oh no I acted like Kasumi_. She reacts like that because she doesn’t want to do it anymore. She did it for so fucking long all because of Maruki and her own weakness. She doesn’t want to be weak. But making a point of acting entirely unlike Kasumi won’t make her seem more like _Sumire_ either, and to go back to being the Sumire she was in middle school is not an option. Akira’s been very kind and helpful, and Futaba’s own struggle to re-enter the world inspires Sumire, but – it’s still not like it’s _easy_ to figure out who she is.

Being in Akechi’s body isn’t helping, but it does make her ask, “Did you enjoy being the Detective Prince?”

Akechi shuts the cupboard he put the bowls in and states, “You’re relentless.” While Sumire thinks of a response Akechi suddenly laughs, startling and harsh. “Very well. It’s not like anything matters at this point, anyway. Yes, I did. It was fucking exhausting, but…“

“You liked the attention, didn’t you?” Sumire says, because Sumire likes attention too. She stood in the shadows because the spotlight was always on brilliant, bold Kasumi. Sumire wants Akira to watch her, wants her parents to watch her and be proud of her. She wants them to watch her and know her as _Sumire_ , which is why she asks, “But if it wasn’t the _real you_ they adored, did any of it even mean anything?”

“No,” says Akechi curtly. “So what about _you_ , Yoshizawa-san?”

Akira’s so good and kind. Akechi, on the other hand, tried to kill him. Akechi has no leg to stand on to judge Sumire for anything. It’s late and she’s far from both home or anyone who would listen in on this and care.

“I was so jealous of my sister,” says Sumire. “I hated the fact that I wasn’t her. I hated how she’d be so kind and would always try to help me. It felt like she only pitied me, like she was flaunting how good and _selfless_ she was, always bothering to worry about me.” Sumire takes a deep breath. “And then she died.”

“Yes,” says Akechi quietly. “And when they’re dead you finally realise how much you admired them, hmm.”

Akechi really does regret it.

“Tell me, Yoshizawa-san,” he says, and turns to face her. “Would you ever accept Maruki’s reality again? Would you accept it if he gave you your sister back?”

“It wouldn’t really be my sister,” says Sumire sharply. “I won’t allow him to make a soulless replica of her, and I refuse to be brainwashed again.”

“You would choose the painful truth over ignorant bliss, is that so?”

He sounds like he’s testing her. “Yes,” says Sumire, and crosses her arms.

Akechi smiles sharply and says, “Good. I’m not going to make myself into someone else to please people ever again. I’m not letting Maruki change me to fit his _utopia_ – and neither will you.” He stares her straight in the eye. “I want to make a deal with you, Yoshizawa-san.”

* * *

He didn’t expect Yoshizawa to feel the same way as he, and he certainly didn’t expect her to ask him so many questions. But Akechi will take it.

Akira’s so good and kind and selfless it baffles Akechi. Maruki will no doubt use Akira’s bleeding heart against him, and while Akechi doubts Akira would fold to the threat that Maruki could unmake Akechi whenever he wants to, all of Akira’s friends had wishes of their own. Take Okumura, for example: wouldn’t Akira just _love_ to live in a reality where her father’s still alive and the Phantom Thieves were never blamed for his murder?

Akira might give in to Maruki if the battle seems too hopeless, which is why Akechi was thinking of saying something like this to him – but Yoshizawa’s here right now, and it turns out she’s got a backbone.

“What kind of deal?” asks Yoshizawa. It’s amusing to be on the other end of his own distrustful glare.

“I’m going to fight Maruki with all I’ve got,” says Akechi. “I’d like for you to do the same. Swear to me that _no matter what_ you will not yield to Maruki.”

“And in exchange?” asks Yoshizawa. She might be joking. She might not.

Akechi says, “I’ll tell you all about the Phantom Thieves, since you’re so curious. Well?”

“I’ll never accept Maruki’s reality,” says Yoshizawa solemnly. Good.

Akechi says, “Now, why don’t we go sit in the living room instead of standing around here all night?”

* * *

When Ann woke this morning Akira had already left several messages for her, and he’s usually not much of a texter.

AKIRA: I need you to visit my doctor

AKIRA: Sorry, but we’re really running out of medicine

AKIRA: And you’ve met Takemi before

AKIRA: I’ll give you a list & cash at school

So, Ann replied, and then she had breakfast and awkwardly changed into Akira’s school uniform. She got her bag – really, she’s so glad they don’t really hang out with anyone at school who would notice how they’ve all swapped not only mannerisms but bags and phones, too – and left for school, where Akira met her for lunch and gave her a hefty stack of bills and a list of medicine names. So far so good!

She knows her way around Yongen-Jaya too, and Takemi’s clinic isn’t hard to find. Really, this could be great training in acting, depending on how you look at it. And if Ann had to pick any of the boys to swap bodies with, she’d have picked Akira.

Takemi’s clinic has a very small lobby. Behind the counter sits Takemi, working on a laptop, but she looks up and props her head up with a fist when Ann steps inside and says, “And how’s my guinea pig doing?”

Her what? Ann almost responds out of reflex before remembering how quiet Akira usually is, and shrugs and nods instead. Perfect! Takemi takes this in stride, and says, “I assume you’re here to buy something. Let’s head to the examination room.”

Takemi gets up and disappears behind a wall. Ann heads for the only other door in the clinic, and steps into what must be the examination room, considering all the medical equipment and the cot along the wall. Takemi enters through another door, holding a clipboard, and takes one look at Ann then says, “You didn’t bring the cat today?”

“He’s with a friend!” says Ann, quickly, and reminds herself to not make any big expressions. Akira’s always calm and collected, so Ann has to act cool and indifferent and 100% reliable. Nothing weird’s going on here at all, doctor!

“Hmm,” says Takemi, and takes a seat at the desk. Ann hurries to sit down and the cot and reminds herself that Akira wrote her a list of everything she needs to purchase, and everything’s going to go perfectly. Takemi opens a cupboard to show off a bunch of bottles, then spins her chair around only to stop the motion by slamming her feet on the table. Her shoes are amazing. “So, what do you want?”

“Oh, er, actually.” Ann takes the list from her pocket and hands it to Takemi. “I wrote a list!” She tries smiling.

“You too, huh,” says Takemi, apropos of nothing, and fixes Ann with a piercing look. “Everyone’s been so damn chipper lately. And you’re saying you _still_ need medicine for your ‘exams’? Well, whatever. More business for me.”

Ann sincerely hopes this is the kind of statement Akira would just let pass by without commenting, because she has no idea how to answer that.

Takemi silently reads Akira’s list and starts to pull out pill bottles and placing them on top of her desk. “My neighbours’ old dog is back to perfect health again, too,” she then says, still pulling out bottles. “Which is pretty odd, since I thought they’d buried him last month. I’d ask if you know anything, but… I rather doubt it.”

Takemi’s _noticed_ what’s happening to reality? She must have. Why else would she have said all that?

Ann opens her mouth, then closes it again. If she takes the chance to say anything it better be good.

Takemi closes the cupboard and reaches for Ann’s bag, unzipping it and starting to put the bottles in with – _thankfully_ – no comment about what the bag does or doesn’t contain. It’s not like Ann’s snooped through Akira’s bag, so how would she have known what to put in there to pretend? When Takemi’s done and sitting up straight again Ann quickly hands her the money and says, with all the conviction Shiho and Akira have inspired in her, “We _will_ fix what’s being done to this reality, doctor. I swear it.”

“So righteous,” says Takemi, the corner of her mouth pulling up. “I’ll hold you to that.”

And after leaving the clinic, Ann honestly couldn’t say whether or not Takemi figured her out.

* * *

Three nights since they first were afflicted, all of the Phantom Thieves head straight to Odaiba after school. Ann succeeded in buying the medicine from Takemi, and their weapons ought to be good enough for this place. After all, they would’ve been fine the last time if it wasn’t for that Shadow which looked like a mirror. Akira really, really shouldn’t have hit it with Brainwash.

Still, there’s no way out but forward.

When everyone’s arrived outside of what used to be a half-built stadium, Akira brings them into the metaverse. And instead of his trusty old trench coat, Skull’s jacket and scarf envelop him. Akira suspected that this would happen.

“Goddammit,” hisses Akechi, now dressed as Panther.

“Huh,” says Futaba. “What about your weapons?”

Akira reaches and his dagger appears in hand, and the rest of the Thieves are quick to summon their weapons as well. The outfits are of whoever’s body they’re currently stuck in, but the masks and weapons are their own. They look to Futaba and Makoto says, “Is there a reason we’re dressed as we are? Could you find out?”

“Sure,” says Futaba, and calls for her Persona. “I want to know how much time is left before this status effect lets up, too.”

They wait while Futaba scans them. “Hmm,” she says eventually. “Yeah, this status effect’s not gonna let up for some days yet… about 90 hours left. It’s a really weird ailment overall. And Queen – I think the reason we’re in these outfits is honestly just because of our bodies and the fact that it’s so much easier for us to imagine each other in the same outfits as always, which in this case…”

“Means that really we’d end up in the wrong costumes, I see,” says Makoto. “But since we need our masks to summon our Personas, we _do_ have those.”

“It’s just a matter of which cognition’s stronger,” agrees Mona. “If we tried hard enough, we could probably change our outfits too.”

Haru, standing next to Makoto, says with a smile, “Well, _I_ think Queen’s outfit is very chic and I don’t mind wearing it. Now, where did we stop last time?”

Ryuji, with his Skull mask awkwardly shoved on top of his huge head, sighs heavily. “So, since we’re still gonna be stuck in these bodies anyway, do you guys think I can transform into a van or not?”

“You could try,” suggests Akira. Now that Ryuji’s come up with the idea, Akira would be interested in finding out.

“We’re wasting time,” says Akechi, and Sumire elbows him.

“This I _have_ to see,” says Futaba gleefully.

Ryuji walks a bit away from where they’re clustered around the lift into Maruki’s Palace, and for a moment all of them just stand there, watching Ryuji do absolutely nothing. But they’ve all seen Mona transform into a van plenty of times – even Sumire’s seen it happen a few times – and if it’s just a matter of cognition…

Ryuji jumps up, and lands on four wheels.

The Phantom Thieves cheer. Ryuji says, voice strangled, “This feels incredibly weird. I’ve made a mistake.”

Ann and Sumire go to help him.

While Ryuji works on transforming back, Futaba says, “Welp. At least he managed to do it. How _does_ it feel to do it anyway, Mona?”

Morgana has crossed his arms and is frowning at Ryuji. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to describe it. It’s like when I transform into a cat when leaving the metaverse and suddenly I have to walk on four limbs. And it’s not _that_ weird.”

“And how does it feel now?” asks Akira. “Have Skull and Fox been okay to live with?”

“It’s great having hands, but…” Mona looks down at Fox’s blue gloves, flexing his hands. “I’ve gotten used to the world as a cat already. And even if I wanted to do anything special _now_ , this whole reality just feels too off for it to be any fun.” He looks up and says, “And besides that, it’s impossible to get Fox to go to sleep on time!”

Ah. Akira hides a laugh by coughing.

“You’re definitely the better roommate,” adds Morgana, and Akira feels his smile soften.

“Finally!” exclaims Ryuji, and they look over to see he’s back to being mascot sized. Ann pokes his head and he promptly swats at her while she laughs.

“Are you done?” says Akechi.

The lift’s still waiting for them, and the huge glittering Palace is still looming above them. “If we must,” says Akira, and takes out his phone again. He clears his throat. “Alright, everyone. Gather around and I’ll warp us to the safe room.”

* * *

In the safe room the Phantom Thieves quickly agree that the first thing they need to do is learn how to fight like this. They won’t get anywhere in a Palace without being able to fight. And they’ve all got different fighting styles, that may or may not be compatible with their current bodies. Maybe they’ll be forced to rely mostly on their Personas. But either way-

“We won’t know unless we try it,” says Joker.

They head out from the safe room, Oracle pointing out which way to go. They’re pretty far inside of Maruki’s Palace, thinks Sumire, but the only other Palace she’s ever been in was that casino, so she’s not entirely sure how the Phantom Thieves know when they’re getting close to a Treasure.

They head upwards, away from Maruki’s puzzles. The movie theatre isn’t as blindingly white as the rest of the Palace, but the same predatory feeling of peace that saturates the rest of the place lingers up here as well. Fortunately, there are also low-level Shadows in lab coats with clipboards here.

Akira picks Ann, Akechi and Sumire for the front group, then lunges up from his hiding spot and rips the face of the Shadow.

With a scream, it splits into a Macabre and a Dionysus.

They’ve fought these two before, and Sumire confidently calls for Cendrillon to hit the jester with a blessing.

Akira, on the other hand, opts for trying to use his knife. While Ann hits the Shadows with a storm of fire, Akira rushes around them, and when the Dionysus tries to catch its breath, he stabs it through the back. It writhes and disintegrates, and the Macabre’s quickly finished off similarly by Akechi who ran at it snarling with his sword high.

“That wasn’t too bad, hey!” says Futaba, as the rest of the group comes to join them.

Akira starts to pick up loot from the floor, and Ann joins him after dismissing her Persona.

Sumire’s own Persona is watching Futaba. She should dismiss her, but before she can Cendrillon blows a kiss to Futaba, and Sumire blushes but then resolves to hold her chin high. So what? Futaba wasn’t even looking this way, so what does it matter-

Futaba looks up and catches her eye. It’s so surreal to watch Futaba move her body, her face.

Sumire hates not being in possession of her own body, but if anyone had to borrow it, she’s glad it’s Futaba. She still feels this way.

Futaba glances above Sumire and smirks, and Sumire feels Cendrillon waving to Futaba. Right. That’s enough. She takes her back into her heart, and Futaba’s eyes go back to Sumire. Yes. That’s right. _Watch her and only her._

Sumire feels herself flushing.

Futaba moves closer to Sumire, away from the group. They’re all talking about the Shadows, anyway, and Futaba comes closer to Sumire and says, “It looks like you’ve got the hang of fighting already.”

“Not really,” says Sumire reflexively, self-deprecatingly. She pauses. “That was all Cendrillon, not me.”

“But your Persona _is_ you, technically,” says Futaba. She clasps her hands together, shifts in place. Violet has heels while Oracle doesn’t, but Futaba seems to be managing anyway. “How are you and Cendrillon getting along, anyway? D’you think she’s going to evolve?”

Sumire’s aware that most of the Phantom Thieves’ Personas seemed to change very drastically in name and appearance during the time they’ve been infiltrating Maruki’s Palace, but she’d thought that was because the Phantom Thieves had been doing this for so long already. Of course they’d know secret tricks of making their own representations of their rebellious souls look flashier, hit harder. Sumire never thought she’d be able to do the same thing – but now that Futaba’s suggested it, Sumire very much wants it.

Cendrillon too.

“I hope so,” says Sumire. She looks at Futaba. “How have my parents been? I mean – has it been okay? Living there?”

She dearly hopes Futaba hasn’t decided her parents are a dealbreaker in their relationship.

Futaba looks down. “I tried asking your mom about Kasumi and… she didn’t remember her. So. That happened.”

“Oh.”

Sumire suddenly feels cold. Did mother remember last week, or did Sumire just not think to mention Kasumi? Not even once?

Her sister used to be omnipresent in her life and now she’s nothing.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said that,” says Futaba, and winces.

“No, it’s okay,” says Sumire. She bites her lip. “It’s Maruki’s fault, anyway. Isn’t it?”

Sumire thinks about her sister every day. Nearly everything she does makes her think of her sister, makes her evaluate her own actions, if they’re more like Kasumi’s or more like Sumire’s. Kasumi is gone yet still everywhere, and Sumire reacts to her memory like it’s a parasite taking over her brain, when she should- should be mourning her. Should be remembering all the happy times they shared; they had those, didn’t they?

Maruki’s decreased the worth of every single memory Sumire has of Kasumi, half a life all tainted by his manipulation.

Blame and anger and sorrow are a hot ball of hate she squeezes, stores in her chest, and it burns. It’s horrid. She wants to stop thinking about it.

It’s – it’s sweet that Futaba wanted to know more about Sumire’s life, about Kasumi. That’s what Sumire’s going to take away from Futaba’s words.

“Yeah, we’ll kick Maruki’s butt,” agrees Futaba.

Sumire says, “Thanks for telling me about my parents, Oracle-senpai.”

Futaba waves away her thanks, and then Joker calls for them all to continue their infiltration, so they get going. But Sumire keeps thinking about what they’d discussed.

* * *

It might be cognition that allows them to move so fluidly. Or maybe they’ve just gotten used to these bodies during the past few days. Either way, as Akira is pleased to note, the only ones who seem to be having any real difficulty fighting like this are Yusuke, Mona and Ryuji.

Haru giggles as she and Makoto finish their try at a showtime attack, which they were able to execute perfectly well even with swapped bodies. Futaba cheers for them.

“Whew,” says Haru once the fight is over. “How much Palace do you suppose we’ve still got left to traverse, Mona-chan?”

“I’m not sure,” says Mona. “It feels like we’re far in, but I honestly don’t know. The Treasure’s still pretty high up.”

“Is anyone tired?” asks Akira.

They all agree they’re not, but Akira takes the opportunity to hand out snack bars anyway.

After the Shadow they fought the dimly lit corridor continues straight onwards until they hit a locked door. They watched another one of Maruki’s memories earlier so Akira’s got the answer, and the door opens for them. Behind it is a lift, and Akira takes the lead.

“Still a ways to go…” predicts Mona, as the lift starts moving up.

Someone groans.

When the lift stops, and the door slides open, sunlight hits them. Akira steps out, taking in the huge garden they’ve suddenly entered. The distortion is noticeably much stronger up here. Everything is awash with golden light and there are flower petals on the breeze; from somewhere comes the distant sound of melodic laughter and reverent whispering.

The path continues, from platform to platform, up.

The Phantom Thieves marvel at the sight. The Phantom Thieves spot some of the creepier decorations in this place. Akira puts his hands in his pockets and focuses very hard on not thinking about Maruki. Nothing at all.

There are more puzzles, up here. Colours and plants and sealed-off paths.

Akechi scoffs. “Even the puzzles here are fit for kindergarteners. I despise that man.”

Akira feels it’s better for him to not say anything to that.

Akechi looks at him. “Nothing to say?”

Damn him. Akira smiles, shrugs. “What should I say then, detective?”

“Have you no opinion of your counsellor and his pretty little reality?” It’s fascinating to see Ann’s face assume the expression of disdainful idle curiosity. “No desires of your own for him to make a mockery out of?” Akechi smiles menacingly. He’s angry for real, then. Is this place truly that repulsive to him?

Akira doesn’t know what exactly Akechi wants out of him. He does not want to walk lightly across a minefield. He wants more information; he wants the truth. Akira and Akechi and the _truth_ – the truth becomes a tangible object in their conversations and the both of them strive to obtain it, compete for it. If Akechi smiles then Akira smiles back, if Akechi wants to fight then Akira stands his ground. If Akechi’s obsessed with seeing the “real” Akira, then Akira-

“It seems Maruki couldn’t think of any wish to offer me,” says Akira. He has all his friends. He has his freedom. He’s much better off than he was when he came to Tokyo. What else?

“So, you have all you could want, is that it?” Akechi says. “Then perhaps Maruki will try to take something of yours away. Or perhaps you’ll realise you never even had any of this to begin with.”


	5. Chapter 5

Maruki gave them a deadline. Maruki knows they’re exploring his Palace, and he hasn’t made any moves to stop them since he lost his grip on Sumire and the other Phantom Thieves. But he hasn’t given up on his ideals, either. Is he really just waiting for them to come to face him?

What was it that Akechi was implying?

_‘_ _Perhaps you’ll realise you never even had any of this to begin with’…_

They did really beat the God of Control, didn’t they? They saved Tokyo, and Ryuji, Ann, Yusuke, Makoto were all fine – Futaba and Haru too were optimistic about the future. And Morgana came back… even Akechi… even _though_ …

-but Akira’s wish can’t be Akechi. He’s still here, unlike Okumura and Isshiki who both disappeared as soon as they were revealed to be fakes. This isn’t the same thing.

It can’t be.

As they navigate the garden labyrinth at the top of Maruki’s Palace Akira keeps sneaking looks at Akechi, who keeps dropping sarcastic comments and trying to argue which way they should go. And Akechi’s solid when Akira bumps shoulders with him, and Akechi glares at him and rolls his eyes and keeps acting like he’s acted this entire time they’ve been dealing with Maruki’s Palace. He didn’t act exactly this way before January – but that was because he was playing the Detective Prince at the time. And his brisk efficiency and competence is the same as before. Honestly, the more Akira looks at him the more he recognises from before – where before he’d have politely suggested they hurry up he’s now impatient, and where before he’d merely have insinuated things and then acted shocked if anyone got offended, he’s now cuttingly honest. But it’s still him.

And he’s still here. _So what did he mean?_

It can’t be Morgana he’s talking about – Akira _knows_ Mona, dammit – and why would Akechi make such a show of it if he meant Mona, anyway? Or would he?

Doubt – which could easily turn to serious worry – gnaws on Akira’s mind the whole way through the labyrinth. Yusuke and Makoto, with assistance from the others, manage to figure out how the maze works and lead them through it, so at least Akira doesn’t have to be at the top of his game for a moment. There are hardly any Shadows in the labyrinth either – just those mindlessly smiling cognitions swaying in the breeze.

When they finally reach the top there’s another video for them to watch. They’re only watching the memories because they need to do it to get through the Palace, but it still feels like a weird and invasive thing to do. Not as bad as Futaba’s Palace, but nevertheless. The fact that Maruki knows they’re here and isn’t doing anything just makes Akira wonder if he _wants_ them to go look at his memories, which would be really weird, so Akira tries not to think about it. He’s not interested in playing mind games with his counsellor.

After the memory is another lock which Akira opens using information from the memory.

“Does he want us to know his reasons for doing this or what?” asks Ryuji, sounding exasperated. “Why are some Palaces full of guards and some full of – this?”

“I don’t know,” says Morgana. “How a Palace looks like depends entirely on the ruler’s personality and the reason why the ruler views the location as distortedly as they do. So, Maruki obviously thinks about these memories a lot.”

“Or perhaps that’s simply what he wants us to believe,” says Akechi. “And Maruki himself has already figured out how to control his own Palace and all that is shown inside of it.”

“That-“ begins Morgana.

“Then why would he show us all this?” argues Futaba. “If he could manipulate this place as he wanted, he could’ve stopped us at any point. Nothing in my scans indicate that this Palace functions any differently than a previous one.”

Makoto asks Futaba if she’s found anything else of interest, and Haru, Yusuke and Ryuji join in on their discussion. Akira sticks his hands in his pockets and steps back, and then Sumire says, “I think maybe Maruki is just… lonely.”

“Lonely,” repeats Akechi.

“Well,” says Sumire. “If his closest confidant used to be Akira…”

“You might be right,” says Akira, and looks at Akechi. If Maruki’s just lonely and sharing his memories with everyone and anyone who comes walking through his Palace, or if Maruki is secretly an evil mastermind and every memory shown has been deliberate – they’re nearly at the Treasure, what does it matter anymore? It’s not like they haven’t been forced to make hard decisions before, and no matter how sad Maruki thinks reality is they’re still going to take it back. The Phantom Thieves won’t give up and Maruki won’t give up and Maruki has just let them explore his entire Palace without stopping them.

Akechi’s right that it seems a tad suspicious.

There’s a cold lump in Akira’s guts. Everyone else here had a wish fulfilled except for him and – Akechi. Right? Akechi never wanted to participate in Maruki’s ideal world and he never believed in it, like Akira, and Futaba declared him dead in the ship and Maruki must have some last trick up his sleeve. Akira turns his thoughts around and around like the truth will change if he puts the facts together in a different order. But it won’t. And the truth is what he’s wanted, isn’t it.

“Akechi…” says Akira.

Akechi knows. “No matter how ‘lonely’ Maruki seems he has to be stopped. No matter what he tells you, you _must_ stop him. Is that clear?”

“I promised you,” agrees Sumire.

Akechi nods to her, then looks at Akira.

When Akira first got arrested, he sat in a jail cell for one night and thought that at least he’d done the right thing. And then he got home and was expelled from his high school. And his friends texted him that perhaps they shouldn’t see each other anymore. And his parents scolded him, then ignored him, and finally his brother told him that what he’d done was not only stupid but completely meaningless. And what Akira felt then he feels now, again: that fighting the injustice of the world is like fighting rain, trying to keep the water from leaking in through a damaged roof.

(and there are always people in the house, and you can’t let the water on them)

The Phantom Thieves are glorious and brilliant and sometimes hard choices must be made, yes, of course. And Akira’s the one who’ll make them.

“Fine,” Akira says, and turns his back to Akechi.

They made it this far while stuck in each other’s bodies. That’s not bad. They’ll easily finish the rest of the Palace if they keep up this pace. Akira would feel proud of his friends, but they’re still not done here and he’s not in the best of moods.

The corridor continues beyond the lock he opened, and there at the end stands a huge Shadow. “Is everyone ready?” asks Akira, and so they prepare to fight.

He can do this. It’s something at least, and it’ll lead to something bigger, and soon they’ll free the world from Maruki’s control. They didn’t save it from the God of Control just to let someone else remake it as he pleases. Never.

* * *

Futaba monitors the battle from Al Azif.

This Shadow seems to be the last obstacle between them and the Treasure so they’re all going about it carefully, even Akira. With him he’s got Makoto, Haru and Sumire. The Shadow, your standard armoured guard, has a couple of devastating physical and then later electric attacks, but Akira and Makoto are both equipped with powerful healing spells to combat that. Slow and steady does it.

Still, there’s a moment when an already wounded Sumire fails to dodge a blow and promptly collapses which is pretty fucking awful to watch. Futaba may have screamed her name as it happened.

Akira immediately revives her, of course, but Futaba’s hands still won’t stop shaking until the battle’s over.

“Good job everyone,” says Akira, after. All of them have gathered at the end of the corridor where there’s nothing but a lift waiting. Akira makes them all stop to rest for a bit now that the enemy’s gone, and after making sure there’s nothing else that could attack them in the vicinity Futaba too comes out of Al Azif. It’s not that she doesn’t trust her team to defeat every enemy in their way – this body-swap thing just makes everything really complicated and stressful and potentially more dangerous.

Like what happened to Sumire. Speaking of-

“Thanks for your assistance there, Oracle-senpai!” says Sumire when Futaba banishes Al Azif, making her way closer to the other girl. Sumire beams at her.

“It was nothing, really!” says Futaba quickly. She’s not at all used to having the status effect _crush_ and the fact that Sumire is in Akechi’s body is really not helping. It’s not that Futaba likes Sumire only because of her appearance, obviously, but Futaba kinda hates the sight of Akechi, just a bit, so. Things are even more awkward than usual in Futaba’s relationship department!

“We’ve gotten really far inside, haven’t we?” continues Sumire. “How much farther till the Treasure, do you think?”

Mona’s better at gauging that kinda thing, but- “Not much,” says Futaba. “We’re nearly at the top, so there can’t possibly be that much dungeon left.”

“Should I be nervous?” asks Sumire. “We’ll have to fight Maruki, right?”

“Most likely,” agrees Futaba. Should they be nervous? Maruki’s only some guy who’s stolen the power of a god and used it to literally reshape reality as he wanted – there’s no way to know what to expect. They haven’t been dealing with his Shadow, but rather the man himself- _and_ he’s got a Persona. Honestly, considering this is cognition they’re talking about, they should go in as confidently as possible and refuse to even entertain the thought of not winning.

And they have to win. Akira didn’t wake them up only to then go ahead and lose.

“I’m glad you’ll be with us,” says Sumire. She’s glancing away, tucks a lock of Akechi’s hair behind her ear – and oh, that’s _really_ weird and distracting, so Futaba looks down at her own feet instead. “It’s reassuring to know that you’re watching over us when we fight, that you’re ready to assist us if things go wrong. You’re really amazing.”

Futaba’s heart pounds. “Oh!” she says. Reboot, _reboot_. “I’m just doing my job. You’re the one who’s actually amazing!”

Futaba sneaks a glance up, and – Sumire’s blushing.

Good, great, this would be a hundred times better if they were in their real bodies. Still. Futaba smirks a little.

“Alright!” announces Queen. “If everyone is ready to go, we’ll be taking the lift now.”

Futaba and Sumire hurry after the others and into the waiting lift, and even though Futaba seriously does not want to know (okay, she _does_ want to know, just a tiny little bit, because she’s curious by nature) what Maruki’s got stashed up there, she _does_ want to be finished with this Palace and this status effect and this whole reality so that she and Sumire can go do something together in their real bodies. Or at least try it.

* * *

A so-called psientific model of Eden. Akechi hates it at once.

Pretentious, annoying, creepy, just plain disgusting – Maruki’s got it all covered. If the cognitions downstairs were happy then up here, they’re downright _ecstatic_. Is there no limit to that man’s ego.

The path comes to an end once they step out of the last lift, and the Phantom Thieves exclaim that the Treasure’s right ahead. They’ve got their route secured. January will soon come to a close. Once Maruki’s reality collapses, Akechi’s existence will expire and he’ll never have to pretend to be anything ever again.

Akechi does not so much want to die as that he’s simply aware he’s going to. He’d never accept living in a reality dictated by a man such as Maruki, so really, death can’t come fast enough for him.

Especially since he’s still forced to wear this ludicrous get-up, not to mention Takamaki’s irritating hair.

“I suppose we’re done here,” says Niijima eventually. Finally.

“Yeah,” says Sakamoto, still stuck as a mascot. “Unless you wanna go look for more loot, I guess.” He looks up at Kurusu.

“No,” says Kurusu. “We’re done here.”

“Alright,” says Niijima, and takes out her phone. “Everyone, let’s head back to the entrance.”

The Thieves are quick to gather around Niijima and she warps them back to the entrance of the Palace, then brings them out of the metaverse. It’s dark when they rematerialize; they must’ve spent hours inside. It’s snowing as well, just enough to make the ground wet and slippery.

“Yuck!” exclaims Sakamoto at the slush, and Kitagawa lets him jump into his arms before standing up.

“Good work today, everyone,” says Kurusu. He sounds particularly flat and curt today. He has no glasses to hide behind but his eyes are empty.

“Yes,” agrees Niijima. “We still have school tomorrow, but at least we finished the Palace well before the deadline. And this ailment is supposed to let up in a few days, right Futaba?”

“Yep,” says Sakura. “All we’ve got left to do is wait.”

The Phantom Thieves exchange goodbyes and make plans for tomorrow as they head to the station and eventually go their separate ways, and Akechi and Yoshizawa get on their train. Three days more with her, and then it’s over. Then a few more days after that, and it’ll _really_ be over.

They get off the train and start walking, and after a minute Yoshizawa says, “I know you tried to kill Akira-senpai, but…”

This again. Akechi’s not very invested in airing out his dirty laundry to anyone, ever, and since he’s supposed to die in a matter of weeks it just seems completely pointless. Pointless to lie, too, of course, which is why he ever talked to Yoshizawa in the first place. “Yes,” answers Akechi. “What about it.”

“But you do like him, right?” says Yoshizawa. She eyes him. “It seemed as if he was upset by what you said earlier.”

Is she concerned for Kurusu, or is she digging for more dirt. And what does it matter to Akechi?

“How should I know what goes through Joker’s head?” says Akechi. “He’s my favourite Phantom Thief, but it’s not like that was hard for him to achieve.” He’s not lying, Akechi tells himself, but it’s not like he’s really _saying_ anything either. He’ll be dead soon, he then reminds himself. There’s no point to anything. Not even keeping secrets. “I don’t understand why he would bother with me, to be honest. Now that he knows I’m just a product of this false reality he must see that it’s pointless and ought to give up.”

“You-“ Yoshizawa stumbles over the word. “You’re a cognition? No, a wish?”

“Precisely.” They’ve reached his building. Akechi stops at the door to look at Yoshizawa, crossing his arms. “In summary, the time you have is always limited whether you realise it or not, so go and fucking tell Sakura-san about your feelings before it’s too late. Though I suppose you’ve already learned this lesson, haven’t you?”

Akechi expects Yoshizawa to be angry or flustered. And it’s there, yes – Akechi can read his own face, of course – but there’s also pity in her eyes.

She says, abruptly, “I think I hate Maruki. I hate that we have to stop him.”

Happiness isn’t for people like Akechi; he long ago forfeited the right to it. But for Maruki to use Akira and his friends’ stupid bleeding hearts against them is both cruel and disgusting.

He’d hated the thought of ever having Yoshizawa in his flat. He’d hated even showing it to anyone. But he’ll be dead in two weeks and if Yoshizawa hadn’t gotten stuck with him then he’d have been alone in his flat like he’d been every week since he’d first started working for Shido and gotten an own flat. As meaningless an existence as he’s always been.

He wouldn’t have picked Yoshizawa if he’d had a choice. He’d have picked no one. But of course he didn’t get a choice. He’s as much a fucking pawn as when working under Shido. That’s no way to live. He refuses to. If death is what he’ll get when they free themselves from this reality, then he’ll accept it. He should’ve never been resurrected anyway. He hates that he was brought back to life only as bait for Kurusu Akira and he’s hated having to pretend to be Takamaki for even a minute. But in comparison, spending time with Yoshizawa has been nearly pleasant.

“But you will,” says Akechi.

Yoshizawa Sumire squares her shoulders and says, “Yes.”

* * *

They go to school. Lessons pass and Akira makes a half-hearted effort to pretend to be Ryuji; it’s not like anyone’s noticed anything weird at all happening this whole month, now is it? After school’s finally over Akira heads to Leblanc and catches Sojiro teaching Morgana how to make curry. Mona will become a cat again in a matter of days, as he’s always been. But the both of them already know that.

Ryuji’s in the attic reading a manga, turning the pages with his teeth. Yusuke is doodling something on the back of an old envelope and getting frustrated with Futaba’s body’s lack of muscle memory.

Most of them want to return to their original bodies as soon as possible, obviously.

Akira stays at Leblanc, doing not much of anything for an hour, before deciding that Ryuji’s mom might get worried again if he doesn’t head back soon. “Anything you want me to tell your mother?” Akira asks Ryuji before he leaves.

“Nah,” says Ryuji. “I know you’ll always say the right thing. I trust you.”

That’s right. Akira cannot under any circumstances allow himself to fail. Too many people depend on him. Even Akechi depends on him for a certain fucked-up definition of it. And speaking of – there will be plenty of time for regret later, but for now, Akira realises he’s got work to do. When he gets to Ryuji’s place he’ll tell her that he’ll stay out late with friends tomorrow, and then he’ll make plans for going to Penguin Sniper.

They all could use some time to relax, he’s sure.

* * *

Akira doesn’t at all have the same skill stats at billiards when in Ryuji’s body, apparently, which Futaba thinks is hilarious. When the first ball shoots off the table and rolls away beneath someone else’s chair, all of them stare in disbelief at the table until Akira ducks his head in embarrassment and goes to recollect it. _Then_ everyone else wants to see how their borrowed bodies will affect their dexterity in the real world.

Most of them handled moving in the metaverse completely fine (and that’s due to cognition, too, obviously). This is different. And more difficult.

Ryuji sulks for a bit since he can’t figure out a way to play billiards as a cat, but settles in to watch with Futaba, Akira and Makoto soon enough. Haru wins against Akechi – fuck yeah – and gives him some kind of look (which Futaba can’t see from where she’s sitting) which makes him retreat to the bar to buy something. Akira gets up a moment later to follow him, and Futaba doesn’t want to think about that – she never ever wants to think about Akechi, actually – so instead Futaba gets up and says, “My turn! Let’s go, Sumire.”

“I’ve never played billiards before,” says Sumire, turning the cue stick over in her hands.

“Then I’ll teach you,” says Futaba, and comes over to her side of the table.

Futaba likes teaching. Futaba doesn’t like _having to_ explain things, but she really likes explaining lore or teaching people game mechanics. And Sumire’s a good student.

Soon Yusuke and Ann come wandering back to them after finishing their game of darts, and Akira and Akechi return from the bar a while after that. It’s nice, Futaba supposes. She doesn’t exactly stream video games, but she doesn’t mind people watching her when she plays. Sumire doesn’t either, just smirks at Akira and Akechi when she scores – and then she grins at Futaba.

She’s still in Akechi’s body, and Futaba’s stuck in hers – but soon that’ll change. Just a day more. Just a few hours more.

Futaba grins back before bowing over the table again. She’s still planning to win.

* * *

Kurusu still has his glove, apparently. From November.

Akechi watches the girls play billiards, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed. There are other people in the club, but they’re all absorbed in their own fantasy worlds and Akechi’s frown makes him practically invisible to them. He watches Yoshizawa carefully line up a shot and contemplates Kurusu. He feels tired.

Kurusu kept his glove and Kurusu expects Akechi to keep his ‘promise’ in turn. Kurusu’s stubborn relentless naïve belief in other people makes Akechi goddamn exhausted to think about. It’s not an honour or a kindness to receive the faith that he’ll keep an oath he has no possibility of keeping. Why would Kurusu bother with this farce? Akechi has no choice but to let him down. He doesn’t even get to deliberately _choose_ to break his promise of another duel; it’s just going to happen.

Kurusu knows this. Kurusu’s a fucking idiot.

Remembering the dead is a pointless thing to do. But maybe it’ll bring Kurusu something which it did not bring Akechi, when the time comes.

* * *

JOKER: we’re supposed to turn back to normal tomorrow, right?

ORACLE: yep

NOIR: As difficult as this has occasionally been, it’s also been a fascinating experience, and I’m glad I could share it with Mako-chan!

QUEEN: I’m relieved we didn’t have to write any exams like this.

QUEEN: But yes, I suppose I agree with you, Haru.

FOX: Ryuji does not seem to share your sentiment, but I must admit seeing the world from another perspective in such a literal way has given me a spring of inspiration which I will draw upon for months to come.

ORACLE: h

VIOLET: I don’t regret this week, either.

JOKER: i’m glad to hear that

ORACLE: anyway. this curse shall break by dawn tomorrow, and if not were scrwed

QUEEN: I’m sure it’ll work.

QUEEN: It’s getting rather late, however. Let’s log off, shall we?

* * *

Akechi’s leather sofa creaks when she rolls over, and his curtains seem to always be drawn. When she turns over to the sound of rustling sheets and sees a sliver of sky through the window she blinks at it, then jerks upright. Her covers pool around her in her own bed in her own room and she runs a hand through her long, red hair.

She’s back in her room and back in her body.

It must’ve happened in her sleep.

Sumire takes a second to imagine how Akechi and Ann will deal with having to be in the same flat alone, smiling, and then she remembers that she’s left her things at Akechi’s place and will have to go back there today. Soon. But she’s missed her parents, missed cooking a _real_ breakfast, and using her own shampoo, and-

Something buzzes beneath her pillow.

Futaba’s phone. It’s glittery and decorated with stickers, and when Sumire fishes it out and holds it up it unlocks automatically and opens a text box.

 _Hey_ , it says, letters appearing as if typed. _Would u mind coming over to my place later to bring me my phone & stuff?_

_We could hang out together after_

_If u want to, ofc?_

Sumire looks at the words for a moment. Then Sumire touches the screen and a keyboard appears, and painstakingly she writes back,

_Yes_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> started this bc I realised I’d never done bodyswap before, and also bc I wanted to practice writing these characters. Turned out longer than I planned to, but it’s been interesting. Thanks to everyone who read this!


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